There's A Devil in My Cemetery
by vampire-demon
Summary: Noone is safe in the world of Repo! GR/OC
1. Chapter 1

Ever feel like you can't breath? Like you need to rip your heart out just to stop its insistent beating? Ever feel like you would willingly give that bleeding heart away for anyone to say "I love you"?

I did. And it got me in a world of trouble.

I used to watch the city below from my cramped window, hunching myself so that I could dangle my feet off the side of the building. I had a perfect view of Sanitarium Square from up there. To the left was the ominous and looming GeneCo tower, its many neon lights and floating static advertisements polluting my room with an artificial glow and a popping buzzing sound.

Just to the right of my building was a small, ancient cemetery, completely forgotten with the passage of time. Grave robbers never bothered with it, the bodies too old and close to dust to be worth a vial of "Z". But what they didn't know only benefited me.

Tucked in the far corner of the cemetery plot, only visible from my high-rise window, was my mother. There was no tombstone for her, no way to identify who was there, or if there even _was_ a body. I knew though, and every week on Tuesday I left my perch to adorn her spot with paper flowers and candy. She always loved those hard chunks of lemon rock, and it only seemed fitting to offer them even in death.

I had gone down the previous night, so the flowers still gleamed brightly, a constant reminder. However, that morning, form my window, I saw an unusual sight.

Don't get me wrong; I had seen my fair share of grave robberies, even having sucked the blue goo from the rotting bodies myself. But never had I seen one in _my_ cemetery.

Graverobbers were peculiar creatures. They spent most of their nights pillaging and desecrating tombs, forever eluding the GeneCops, but when it came to actually living, they stayed as far away from corpses as possible. I don't blame them. I may have destroyed a body or two, but never would I willingly sleep in a graveyard.

That's why I was surprised to see one lurking in my cemetery so early in the morning. Surely they knew there was nothing worth taking?

Then I remembered my mother. Her corpse was still fairly fresh, only having been dead a year. How would the robber know she was there? No way they could see my decorations.

Paranoia over whelming me, I ripped myself from my window and tugged on a pair of pants. Making a mad dash for the door I ran the whole eight flights down to the back cemetery access.

I slowed at the glass door, glancing across the alley.

The robber was still there, and from my distance I could clearly see he was a man. His overcoat was long and dark, a collar of fake fur wrapping around his neck and shoulders. His boots were high and heavy, his waist strapped with vials. He turned slightly in his stroll, flashing his white teeth lined with black. His long ratty multicolored hair jiggled around as he walked.

He was milling around, as if waiting for something. Or someone.

I pushed open the door and hopped across the small alley to the rusted gate.

"Hey, grave robber, what the fuck do you think you're doing?" I shouted, plastering on my fiercest glare.

He slowed in his walk, looking around to me. His lips pulled back in a scowl.

"What does it look like I'm doing, Zydrate whore? I ain't got nothin' for you tonight, so fuck off." He turned back, continuing his stroll.

I brushed off his rude and misplaced comments, opting to goad him more. I placed a limp hand on my hip and braced myself against the gate, attempting to get closer to the offending robber.

"What the fuck are you doing in _my_ cemetery? There's nothing but dust here, nothing worth Zydrate," I shouted back.

"Your cemetery, huh?" he replied, not even turning to look at me. "I don't see your headstone anywhere."

"That's because I'm not dead," I yelled, frustrated. I wondered if this robber was stupid or just messing with me.

"Are you sure about that? How do you know this isn't Hell?" he smirked.

"Well, you don't look like the Devil, so I must still be on Earth. So get the fuck out of my cemetery," I growled back. Obviously he was indeed stupid.

"Kid, I'm _way_ worse than the Devil." He turned toward me as he said it, a wicked gleam in his eyes.

With a quick wink and a macabre tune on his lips he slowly left my cemetery.

I hoped he got the message. The last thing I needed was a smug ass grave robber looting my mother. After a lingering glance to where her spot was I slipped back inside, ready for work.

* * *

Yay! My first Repo! fanfiction. I was introduced to the world of Repo! by my mother a couple of months ago and have been hooked ever sense. This is my little post-apocolyptic baby for you to read and enjoy. I am hoping it will be about three chapters long, as that is the only way this would ever get finished. Thanks to Forestwater for being my beta. Have fun and make sure to review!


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

I found my assumptions of the graverobber were completely false. He was a persistent fucker; I had to kick him out of my cemetery twice. Each time I returned from work I watched him prowl through the hallowed ground, no respect for the bodies beneath his clunky boots.

I just didn't understand why he kept coming back, why he kept looking at me as if I were a slab of prime beef. It was sickening, and I was prepared to do anything to get him to fuck off.

It was Friday when I found him lying on a grave next to the rotting iron fence. I had just returned from work, my body aching in unimaginable places.

I hadn't even noticed him there, too intent on getting inside, and I was startled by the low whistle. If I had known he was out there I would have gone through the front.

I looked over, scanning for his position. He caught my attention by propping himself up from the damp earth. His eyes roamed up and down my bare legs.

I hated my job for making all the female employees wear skirts. The constant exposure made my skin itch for the warm comfort of a pair of jeans. The perfect deterrent for leeches like grimy graverobbers. I'd made it a habit to by-pass my normal side entrance to my apartment building for the front whenever I saw him in the cemetery. I didn't want him to lay his perverted eyes on me.

I rolled my eyes and pulled my bag strap higher up my shoulder, making my way over to the robbers perch. His smile widened as he got a better look at my legs.

"I knew you were hiding something good under all those pants," he leered, picking himself up off the ground to lean against the fence.

My irritation level was drastically increasing, a flush of heat crawling up my face.

"Aw, the little girly is blushing," he cooed, confusing my anger for embarrassment.

"What the fuck are you doing here again? Don't you have some graves to rob, some Zydrate to harvest?" I demanded in frustration. I wanted him gone and away from my mother.

He leaned his torso across the fence, bracing his arms along the bars. He flashed me a full set of teeth-a rare sight in one so seedy-, pulling back is lips in a predatorial jeer.

"Kid, Amber Sweet is my number one client. With the kind of dough I rack in from her, I don't have to worry about stocking up for all the other scalpel sluts. I have so much free time; I don't even know what to do with it. So I thought, what better way to waste it then on a pretty girl like you." He reached out one of his dirty gloves to caress my face.

I jumped back in disgust. The freak was coming on to me! With one last glare of revulsion I hopped over the alley to the glass door.

"If you ever need someone to keep you warm sexy legs, you know whereto find me," he called after me, letting off a deep band of chuckles.

I jerked open the glass door, forcing my way into the warm apartment building. I had to keep telling myself the graverobber was just a slimy jerk as I ascended the stairs. I was relieved to finally be in the safety of my rooms, away from the chaotic city below.

Before my mother died I'd never had to really leave our apartment. I only ventured out for school and afterwards returned right back home. With her passing, however, I was forced to care for myself, to give myself up to the desolate city. I hated it. I hated the people, the death; I hated everything. Yet I couldn't bring myself to leave it, couldn't bring myself to leave my mother forever.

I stripped off my tacky uniform and slipped into a fishnet tee and jeans. I walked to the window, the sound of my bare feet padding on the floor mingling in with the static sounds from outside.

I stood at the glass for a moment, gazing out across the crumbling buildings and filthy streets. No, I could never leave, I thought, GeneCo would never let me.

I pushed open the sticky panes and climbed my way on to the sill. I slapped my feet against the brick, enjoying the cool feeling on my toes. A small wind picked up, carrying the stale rotting scent from the alleys below.

I shifted slightly and stared at the GeneCo tower. The company had been handed over to Amber Sweet after Mr. Largo's death, and was miraculously still held together. I had heard about the Opera fiasco while in school, having no access to television myself.

That was over two years ago. Now the company was harder than ever, pushing surgery and organs on the people more than Mr. Largo dared. It was only natural that the rate of repossessions also increased to a sickening level.

I grew tired of the overly ostentatious tower and flicked my eyes to the cemetery. I was hoping the sight of my mother's grave would calm me. He was still out there though, plopped in the middle of the graves, idly plucking grass and flinging it in the air. Like a child. That's all he was, a twisted, over grown child.

Confident I had finally figured him out I slid back into my room and out the door, ready to confront his baby ass for the last time.

I found him still sitting in the grass. He appeared bored out of his mind. Stepping up to the old iron fence I gripped the short spikes, using it as a defensive barrier between him and I. The robber pulled his head up slightly, barely giving me a glance before he turned back to picking the grass.

"What's your name?"

The question surprised me and by the jerk of his head I assumed it shocked him just as much. However, he quickly recovered, slapping on his customary grin. An eyebrow lifted toward his hairline as he measured me with a seemingly appreciative eye. Satisfied, he pushed up from the grass and gave a short bow, sweeping his leather clad arm behind him.

"I am GraveRobber. The best Zydrate dealer in the city, with a pension for making the ladies squeal in pleasure." He lifted from his bow and cracked his toothy grin at me.

"That's a stupid name," I scoffed. It really was. Why anyone would call themselves something so generic was beyond me.

He wasn't fazed, however, and made his way to the fence, absently fling his handful of torn grass to the side, " You're right. It's not nearly as nice as SexyLegs."

My eyes widened in unrepressed shock and embarrassment. "My name is not SexyLegs!" I snapped, a slight screech to my voice.

His smile only widened as he slid his hands over mine. Though he was wearing gloves his hands were still warm and soft; I didn't mind the unsuspected comfort.

"But SexyLegs fits you so well. Think of it as a gift from me to you." His eyes moved up my arm, his left hand following in a slow circle.

Chills ran up my spine sending a sharp jolt to my hazy mind. I jerked my hands from the bars and rubbed them up my arms to rid them of goose bumps.

"How come you live alone? Don't have any family? No boyfriend?" He questioned, returning my attention to his presence.

I was a little off put by the question and wasn't sure how to answer. My confidence had completely dissolved and I no longer could remember why I was outside in the first place. I looked into his eyes and was startled by their brightness. He must have had surgery on them, I resolved, knowing full well no one could naturally be that lively having lived here.

"Not that it's any of your business, but I happened to have just moved out of my parents house and have no taste for boyfriends." I rubbed my arms a little more, trying to avoid his gaze so he wouldn't know I was lying.

"Oh no boys huh? So what about a girlfriend?" he dryly laughed.

"Uh, shut up! You're so childish!" I was quickly becoming tired of his stupidity.

He stopped laughing and cocked his head to the side, an inquisitive gleam in his stare. He pressed himself against the gate and grabbed my arm, drawing me to him. I stumbled from the sudden motion and fell into him, slamming my hip on the rough iron. A warm glove caressed my cheek, erasing the pain. His white powdered face inched closer and closer to my own. Expecting a kiss I turned my head. Instead he nuzzled into my hair and I heard him draw in a deep breath.

"A girl like you should never be alone. The world is full of monsters that would love to take advantage of an unclaimed lady." Warm earthy breath wafted across my face, tingling my ear.

I sharply moved away, tugging my arms and hair from his hold. I was deeply confused of his intentions. Did he really care for my well-being? Pulling my shoulders up into a protective hunch I turned away from his dominating presence and scuffled to the glass door.

Once back in my room I collapsed onto the couch, letting the throbbing of my hip lull me into sleep. I would awake the next morning for work with a blistering headache and tender blue and purple splotches splayed across my middle.

* * *

Chapter 2 up for review! That ryhmed, creepy. I hope this is going in an alright direction for you guys. Sadly, there is only one chapter left. I'm debating whether I should kill the suspense and get it to you ASAP...or let the flavor linger, so when you do get the last chap. you appriciate it all the more? Hmm, desicions desicions. Thanks to Forestwater for betaing this chapter!

Always,  
~Vampire-Demon~


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